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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417751">silvering</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidlibrarian/pseuds/cryptidlibrarian'>cryptidlibrarian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU where Falk is the detective's soulmate, Bittersweet Ending, Book 2 Spoilers, Nonbinary Character, Other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:20:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24417751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidlibrarian/pseuds/cryptidlibrarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin sees a man in the mirror.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Detective/Falk (The Wayhaven Chronicles)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *if (romance = "none”) </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> *create “Rin Takahara” </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>She peers in the mirror, stretching her neck out. </p><p>The scars are invisible against the chaotic colours of her skin to begin with- the pale patches of vitiligo and dark, scattered freckles, moles and keloid scars draw people’s attention far more than a delicate spiderweb. She’d thought about telling Elidor not to bother too much with hiding the scars, really- something about the hiding of them itches under her skin. If they were obvious, she wouldn’t take so much time looking for them, and maybe she could move on a little faster.</p><p>She sighs, and leans forward to rest her forehead against the mirror, letting her shoulders fall, the uncomfortable pressure on her neck as she leans on a point not meant to support her. </p><p>The glass is cold, colder than the chill that’s set in since the sun went down. It’s not quite summer, not yet, and it’s not like it gets particularly warm in Wayhaven anyway. Not like some of the places she’s lived. She thought about settling somewhere else, moving to the tropics, letting herself brown and bleach and burn, but Wayhaven’s always had a hold on her. It’s like a fishhook in her gut, long since healed over.</p><p>“Rin?” Rebecca’s outside. Probably wondering why she’s taking so long in the bathroom. She doesn’t usually.</p><p>“Coming,” she calls out.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *goto carnival_friends </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>They’re lost in laughter before they even get to the carnival. Rin can barely remember what they’re laughing about- when she and Farah get going they’re all giggles and nonsense. Sometimes they can curb it, for the sake of Adam’s nerves, but when it’s just them? There’s nothing to stop their shared joy. </p><p>They lace their arms together and spill into the green of Hollow’s Peak with delighted gasps and wide eyes- and it takes no coaxing at all to convince them to indulge in a few of the carnival’s attractions before pursuing the mystery that’s drawn them there in the first place.</p><p>Rin is warm, and bright, and Rin’s heart aches with a million emotions. The desire to hug Farah, as she’s talked a little more about herself, as she’s nearly tumbled from her carousel dragon’s back, as she put on the unicorn necklace, keeps bubbling up, and when they’re invited to have their photo taken she lets herself bundle the little vampire up in her arms, squeezing and smouldering alongside her, barely just keeping it together for the picture before they’re laughing again.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *goto HallofMirrors </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Farah is crying. Farah is crying, and Rin doesn’t know how to stop this- but when she sees a hand reaching for her, for her <em> friend</em>, she doesn’t even need to think before she’s throwing herself in the way.</p><p>And her voice stops in her throat.</p><p>The man stares at her, a pale ghost dressed so dark his face and hands seem to hang in the darkness of the mirror, the darkness of the room he is reaching into. He frowns, irritation flaring- and then he looks startled as she swallows and bares her teeth.</p><p>“What’s wrong with her? What have you done?” She steps forwards, advancing on him, and only stopping when his hand jerks up towards her. But he stops as well, and his frown returns.</p><p>“You are silent inside. <em> Why-? </em>” </p><p>But then Rin’s teeth bare again, a snarl worthy of a vampire, and she lunges to grab at the bastard who’s hurt Farah- who <em> is </em> hurting Farah-</p><p>Her hands crack into glass, hard enough to sting and make her recoil but not enough to break. She swears, snatching them to her chest, and glares at the now darkened mirror that shows nothing but herself.</p><p>And then she catches sight of Farah, still kneeling in the centre of the circle, and her attention is dragged back to the more important matter at hand.</p><p>⌘</p><p>Rin usually has energy to spare- but even her limits are tested, when she’s been through a full day of work, the chaos of the carnival and the revelations of the Hall of Mirrors- and now she has Douglas Friedman staring bug-eyed around her apartment. She’s grateful for the distraction. While he tries to take in the bright coloured walls and eclectic mix of furniture, scavenged and refurbished, she can take a moment to breathe in the kitchen.</p><p>She gets them both water. They talk a bit. Rin’s always a sucker for sad stories, and Douglas probably knows it- and she can sympathise with parental troubles. But when things swing back to the frankly unnerving hero worship, she can feel her tiredness eek back in. She wants to go to bed, not have to parent the kid, even though she knows she’s going to.</p><p>And then the supernatural shit hits the fan.</p><p>She could have handled it better. If she’d had some sleep, if she’d not been put through the emotional wringer three times in one day- perhaps she would have tried talking, instead of threatening to cut them off from their portal home.</p><p>Perhaps then when the pale man arrived, she wouldn’t have had her back to him. She spins, but stepping back brings her legs up against the back of the couch, and it’s either fall over backwards or stay stiff and still as the man steps towards her. </p><p>He’s <em> tall</em>, tall as Nate, but that’s the end of any comparisons she can make. She’d seen him in the Hall of Mirrors, but there it had still felt like there was a barrier between them, and there’s nothing now as he looms over her, pale and eerie, his pupilless eyes fixed on her like some unearthly hawk.</p><p>“You,” she breathes, oddly soft and stunned. It must be her tiredness.</p><p>“I see you have shown your guests a great welcome by having them cower in the corner,” he hisses in return.</p><p>Rin has never been the most reliable in delicate situations. Bullshit charm and luck have carried her through life so far, and now they kick her words out before she can even think about choosing them more carefully. She really shouldn’t be making jokes about wine and welcoming parties, when Douglas is lying on the floor, possibly dying, and she shouldn’t be staring at the angry curl of this man’s lip, before he breaks into a sharp bark of orders.</p><p>And when he’s about to step away, follow his people through the mirror, she shouldn’t lunge for his arm.</p><p>“Wait-” She should ask about Douglas. She needs to know how to save him- to save the people of Wayhaven. As her words still on her tongue, the man looks at where she’s grasping him, a furious sneer drawing his lip back, and then seizes her wrist. And from that point, the sickness spreads.</p><p>It <em> hurts</em>. It burns, like fire running through her, and the worst part is how <em> familiar </em> this is. But this time she isn’t bound. This time she’s not locked in place by a nightmare, unable to act, and she swore she’d never let her own stupid pain <em> stop </em> her again.</p><p>She lurches, movements unsteady, and grabs the front of his shirt with her free hand- and crashes into him as she loses her balance. But she doesn’t let go of him, using him to keep herself upright. He lets go of her arm, and grabs her shoulder, the burning spreading there too, but as he locks eyes with her, and sees how brightly they burn through the pain so clearly affecting her, he freezes, unable to push her away.</p><p>“<em>Stop this</em>,” she hisses. Her voice is hoarse with desperation. Her eyes glistening with building tears. Each word is a bullet as she spits it out. </p><p>“D-don’t.<em> Hurt. </em>M-my <b><em>people</em></b><em>.</em>”</p><p>He wrenches himself away. Rin is shoved back, and falls heavily- her eyes squeezing themselves closed, stunned by the sudden <em> abate </em> of her pain. By the time she manages to force her eyes open again, breath coming shallow and struggling, she half expects him to be gone.</p><p>But he’s standing there, half in the mirror, the glass rippling like water, staring right back at her. And then he jerks himself away, disappearing into the darkness as sharply as the last time.</p><p>Rin scrunches her face up, fighting back the urge to bellow and scream her frustration, her belated agony. But there’s more important things for her to focus on, than emotional outbursts.</p><p>She needs to call the Unit. Douglas needs help.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *finish Chapter </em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. chapter one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *set nightmares "traumatic" </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>But the nightmares have changed now.</p><p>Once, her arms came free- and she caught Murphy’s face in her hands as she swung wildly, as her blood boiled and burned, and her nails bit deep into his flesh, and then grew sharper still.</p><p>Once, she gripped the edges of the bed to feel ridged metal- and she looked down to see the ornate frame of a mirror, while the cold burnt into her back, eating through and chilling the acid and fire, leaving her numb and exhausted.</p><p>Once she just dreamed of eyes- the glisten of black sclera, the sharp yellow irises unbroken, and she felt herself hollow out, until her skin was nothing more than a paper shell.</p><p>Rin splashes her face with water, cold enough to shock, and meets her own gaze in the mirror. It never feels quite as private, anymore, but she hasn’t seen any yellowblack eyes staring back at her. It doesn’t mean they couldn’t be watching, but the warning he gave seems to be enough. Enough for these few days, of relative peace.</p><p>She chose to study. Her mind has always been more reliable than her flesh. It’s not infallible- she should have recognised the Estonian when she heard it in the apartment, should have pieced things together sooner- but it’s her best bet. And a bet that already is paying off, as she and Nate manage to find a name to work with. Maa-alused.</p><p>And now the talk is of treaties.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *goto midnightCarnival </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>The night is cold. It shouldn’t be this cold, and Rin can only suspect that it’s the carnival around them- the Maa-alused and their magic, drawing what little warmth there had been in the day from the air.</p><p>Morgan’s presence is comforting. Rin likes her. It’s not something she’s ever put to words, but through all her hot and cold attitudes, her disinterest in anything human, Rin can see the loyal thread that wires her to the Unit. And if Rin could smell and hear so much more of the world, with no ability to turn it off, or dampen her senses- she’d be in a pretty perpetually bad mood too.</p><p>Their escort introduces herself as Sanja. She doesn’t seem to be one of the Maa-alused. She’s warm, and her eyes are old. Rin looks into an entirely different sort of mirror, and reflected there is a smile, like Sanja recognises something, but neither of them say a word on the subject. Sanja just offers her arm, and they move inside.</p><p>Rin went on a cave expedition once. That was the only other time she’s felt this coldness, the way the earth closed around her, and it makes her breath catch. It threatens to catch again, as she catches sight of him- the man from the mirrors. But the stupidest thing now would be to get hiccups during a diplomatic mission so she forces herself to breathe, slow and regular.</p><p>Morgan stays close enough to feel her presence, on the opposite side of Sanja, presumably ready to grab Rin and haul her from danger, but even as she’s framed by far more familiar or threatening figures, the man stares at Rin like there’s no-one else in the room.</p><p>“Falk.” She swallows, wishing the motion wasn’t so obvious. “It’s good to meet you like this. I hope we can find some common ground.” And then a smile ruptures onto her face like air bubbling through water, charming and lopsided.</p><p>His face, as his hand moves away from where it obscures his mouth, is near blank- a professional facade, polite and wary.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *goto home </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Now home is also the warehouse. The room they prepared for her isn’t a mirror of her apartment- more like an echo. An impression made with affection. Her heart twists, and her exhaustion hits its peak with that emotional swell, sending her tumbling into bed the moment Farah’s left her, nary a cogent thought in her brain.</p><p>Her dreams are dark and bloody, and she runs to find a mirror, but there’s nothing but shadows.</p><p>When she wakes, she finds one- in the bathroom, of course, and she looks cold and shaken, and she wonders if she’ll ever feel like herself again. A frail, whimpering thought, and she bares her teeth at it and cracks her head forwards to headbutt the shaken shadow in front of her.</p><p>It <em> hurts</em>. Of <em> course </em>it hurts. She’s an idiot, to go bashing her head against mirrors, and now there’s a greasy, sweaty mark on the surface and the start of a blinding headache to remind her of that, and she leans against the tile to sink down to the floor, out of sight.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *goto HOME </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>It’s nothing against them. She’ll apologise later. She loves the Unit- <em> her </em> Unit- and she loves the room they made for her, and she will stay, but it hasn’t mirrored all the things she needs to feel whole again.</p><p>The drive is cold, because she hasn’t bothered properly dressing, and the hallway leading up to her apartment door feels cavernous. She closes the door too loud for the hour, and grimaces, but something seems to release in her shoulders, letting her arms sag, and letting her slump down behind the door.</p><p>“Late night?”</p><p>It should make her alarmed. It does make her heart skip. But even just hearing another voice seems to help tie her to the waking world, away from the nightmares.</p><p>She looks across the room at Falk. He’s by the mirror, its surface dark, and he’s pale as the moon in the lights from the street outside.</p><p>Rin smiles, lopsided as always, everything about her a symmetry-defying mess. “Honey, I’m home. Did you miss me?”</p><p>He doesn’t quite seem to know how to answer that. It’s not like anyone <em> would </em>, Rin is an addled creature even when she’s not coming down from a panicked flight. She shakes her head, and hauls herself to her feet. She’s still just wearing the oversized shirt and tracksuit pants produced by Farah for sleeping in- a far sight from her far more professional shirt and jacket worn during their last meeting.</p><p>“Any reason you stopped by?” she asks, as she heads for the kitchen. She can feel his gaze tracking her as she moves, like a prickle on the back of her neck.</p><p>“...I wished to talk. But…”</p><p>“I wasn’t home,” she completes, after a moment. She pours herself a glass of water from the tap, turns to face him, and leans against the kitchen counter as she takes a sip. “Stayed over with a friend. Did you stay to snoop?”</p><p>He raises an eyebrow. She can only really see the motion from the shadows on his brow, given how pale his hair is against his skin, even with the warm light spilling from the kitchen and bringing him a little out of the shadows.</p><p>“I would’ve,” she admits with a shrug. “Good way to learn your enemies. Seeing where they sleep.”</p><p>“Am I an enemy still?” He steps forwards, moving almost as though gliding, though she can see the sheen of well-polished boots making each step. The light catches on the silver embroidered details of his pants, curling flowers that match the carved leather patterns on his waistcoat. Her gaze tracks up further, completing her study, until she’s meeting his eyes again- and he stops at the edge of the kitchen.</p><p>“I’d prefer not,” she replies, the corner of her mouth lifting wryly. “It would make a treaty hard to agree on.”</p><p>“...quite.” His lips quirk as well.</p><p>“What d’you wanna talk about?”</p><p>The pause before he replies feels weighted. “...your agency.”</p><p>“Mm?” She sips her water again, and sets the glass down, resting her elbows on the kitchen counter. “Ask away,” she says, with a smile.</p><p>“I trust very few people in life,” he states. “And no organisations.”</p><p>“And the Carnival- that didn’t feel like an organisation.”</p><p>“No. We just are.”</p><p>Like a force of nature. But Rin doesn’t air that thought, just tilts her head to listen.</p><p>“But I have been... persuaded to truly consider your Agency's offer by others in my fold.”</p><p>Rin can’t help a slight smile- relief, at all that means. “So what do you want from me?”</p><p>She can’t deny the shiver that chases up her spine as his eyes draw back to her, dragging over her much as she’d looked over him a moment ago. It seems almost as though he’s about to say something else, before he settles on- “Your opinion.”</p><p>“On the Agency?” Rin’s eyebrows raise.</p><p>He looks to the side- his hair slipping to fall across his cheek as he looks at the room. She wonders what he sees there. “You are an individual. Not the group as a whole. I... trust that opinion more.”</p><p>“What I think doesn't matter in this situation. Only what you do.”</p><p>He looks confused, eyes narrowing. “You won't try to persuade me to their cause?”</p><p>Rin shakes her head. “You have to do the right thing by your people. As I try to do by mine. The intricacies of what that means, I don’t think any outsider could really give a fair opinion on what should be done. I’ve already made as much of my case- the agency’s case- as would be fair.”</p><p>Falk is silent for a long moment. Rin waits.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says at last. Then he starts to turn.</p><p>“You said I was empty.” He stops, and looks back. Rin isn’t leaning against the counter anymore- still, but a step closer suddenly. “What- what does that mean?” Her brow creases, a flicker of worry and confusion slipping through.</p><p>Falk seems to hesitate. “...we see guilt,” he says eventually, turning back towards her. “I told you, we see the most defining moment in a person’s life. But you are...” He purses his lips, and she’s sure he’s biting back the ‘empty’ word again. It does seem to give her a hollow ache, a churning vacuum in her gut.</p><p>“You are like water. Clear. Pure.” </p><p>She blinks. She’s so thrown by this alternate explanation, that she doesn’t even react to Falk stepping closer- and closer again- until he is right in front of her, towering over her. She looks up, belatedly, catching the golden eyes fixed on her. His hand comes up, and she can feel it ghosting over her cheek, tracing the curve, never quite touching. </p><p>“There is nothing I can judge,” he murmurs. “I’ve never met… anyone like you.”</p><p>Rin’s breath hitches. Then her hand moves up, catches at his, and impulsively presses it against her cheek, craving the cool contact. She sighs, eyes falling closed. When Falk kisses her, it’s the brush of glass, warming as it comes in contact with flesh. But he’s not at all made of glass. She’s keenly away of that, as her free hand slides up around his neck, feeling the taut muscles across his shoulders. And his breath against her lips, as he pulls back a moment, is hot and heavy.</p><p>“Strange creature,” he murmurs, and she knows even before she opens her eyes that he’s just looking at her. The look itself is transfixed- the observation of art, memorisation of her constellations.</p><p>“I’ve been called worse,” she laughs, and kisses him, leaning up on her toes so she can press her whole body against him, smiling against his lips as she feels an arm wrapping around her waist, holding her in place.</p><p>And then her phone has to ring.</p><p>Falk’s shoulders stiffen under her hands, and he draws back slightly- though still holding her. Rin sighs, and her head thumps down on his chest. His skin might have warmed, but the leather of his waistcoat is cooler, helping break the fog in her mind.</p><p>“Not a free minute,” she mumbles. There’s a slight huff of breath that might be a laugh from Falk, and she musters a smile.</p><p>She feels cold and tired when she steps away from him, her weariness catching up with her. Her phone got dumped on the ground by the door, along with her keys, when she’d got inside, and she retrieves them now.</p><p>The brightness of the screen makes her grimace almost as much as the name displayed. Adam. Great. She sighs, draws a steadying breath, and answers it.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p><em> “Detective. </em> ” She can hear the worry and disapproval already, in that single word. <em> “Where are you?” </em></p><p>“Home. The apartment. I left a note.” She rubs a hand over the back of her neck, turning back away from the door. Falk… is gone. Disappointing, but not that surprising. She sighs.</p><p>
  <em> “You should not have driven out on your own- why did you-” </em>
</p><p>“Adam, please.” The rare seriousness of her tone seems to stop him. “I’m fine, I just needed to go home for something. I’ll be back tomorrow, I promise. Just… need some more sleep.”</p><p>
  <em> “...fine.” </em>
</p><p>The apartment is cold and empty and quiet, and Rin turns off the lights to head to bed in the dark. As she curls up beneath the covers, dragging them over her head. There’s still the faint scent of clean earth, and running water, and she breathes in deeply, not wanting to let it go.</p><p>She doesn’t dream again that night.</p><p>⌘</p><p>This might complicate things, she realises, as she’s scraping together breakfast the next day. She’s not so stupid as to assume that an attraction between her and Falk might make anything about this easier. The Maa-alused have clearly continued their traditions for centuries, if the myths she and Nate found are anything to go by, and Falk doesn’t seem the sort to lead his people astray for the sake of… whatever the fuck this is.</p><p>She sighs, and shakes her head, and takes a bite of her toast. Enough mulling. She has a job to get to.</p><p>It’s hard, walking into the office and not seeing Douglas behind the front desk. Even if she could set aside his current afflicted state, he’s truly rallied in his work ethic over the last few months. But she knows he’s now lying in a hospital bed, sick because of her- and she knows that his parents hardly even seem to care, from what she’d heard from Rebecca. It grates, and brings a far more sober air to her as she heads into her office.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *if (paperplane = "true") </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>Sometimes, you just need to goof off. Rin knows this very well. Before her partner in crime was Tina, and to some extent she still is. And if she can manage to piece together the puzzle of Unit Bravo and their presence in Wayhaven… maybe she’ll have that cohort again, as close as before. She’d like that. She misses being honest with her.</p><p>Farah catches onto the basics of how to fold planes pretty quickly, for someone who’d never heard of them until a couple weeks ago. They still go through a forest’s worth of paper in perfecting the art.</p><p>“Why’d you leave?” The question comes from nowhere. Rin pauses in her folding- trying something silly with the wings, to see how horrifically it would crash. She looks up to meet Farah’s gaze.</p><p>“...I had a nightmare.” She glances back down.</p><p>“You know, we vampires don’t sleep much- there’s ususally <em> someone </em> up to talk to.” Farah has stopped folding her plane, and her expression, as Rin glances back, is… worried.</p><p>Rin sighs. “I know. I just- I love the room, don’t get me wrong. But it’s still new, and when the nightmares happen-”</p><p>“They happen a lot?” Farah’s brow creases.</p><p>Rin hesitates before nodding.</p><p>“Oh.” </p><p>They’re both silent for a while, the air feeling unusually heavy.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Rin says eventually.</p><p>Farah shakes her head. “Just- come find me, next time, yeah?” She gives a smile, brighter now. “Even if I <em> am </em> sleeping- you can bother me any time. That’s what friends are for.” Her eyes crinkle with the warmth of her smile, and Rin can’t help but lean forwards to catch her in a hug. After a surprised moment, Farah is squeezing her back just as tightly.</p><p>⌘</p><p>This time, she’s looking in the mirror when the surface starts to ripple. It makes a soft noise, gentle and not quite water, and she almost touches the surface to see what it feels like- but then Falk’s face fades into the frame, and she takes a step back, to give him room to come in.</p><p>“Detective,” he greets her. He seems stiff and blank again.</p><p>“Two nights in a row,” she replies, leaning against the couch. “Starting to make me feel special.”</p><p>There’s a flare of something heated in his eyes, which sends a shiver down her spine, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared. He straightens up before the mirror, looking odd and out of place in the now better-lit room. Dark blue cloth and black leather seem dark indeed against the bright yellow wall, in the warm lights.</p><p>“Is something wrong?” she asks, smile quieting a little.</p><p>“Someone has approached me. One of the… supernaturals your Agency has attempted to hide.”</p><p>Rin frowns. “Rogues?”</p><p>“Yes, but not the scattered sort. They have banded together. Their leader arrived earlier, to speak with me. Your agency, it would appear, is not the only one making offers.”</p><p>Rin folds her arms, eyes moving away as she considers this. Neither Adam nor Rebecca have made mention of a band of rogues. Of course, that doesn’t mean they don’t know. There’s a good number of things she’s realised they’re not telling her about.</p><p>“They spoke of you, as well.” This draws her out of her thoughts with a start- eyes widening as she fixes back on Falk. “Not by name,” he continues, watching her intently. “But they spoke of a human with power. Abilities not yet seen in your species.” A pause. “Perhaps that is why I cannot read you. Why Sanja cannot.”</p><p>Rin rubs a hand over her neck- and her fingers find the ridges of the scars left behind. Her expression darkens, brief as a passing cloud.</p><p>“I see,” she says, voice quiet. “Thank you. For the warning.” At least she was already planning on sleeping here tonight. She can’t imagine her dreams are going to be much more pleasant.</p><p>“What caused them?” As she glances at him, his eyes have dropped to her hand, where it presses against her neck. “Those scars.”</p><p>“...a vampire.” Falk stiffens. “Not- not my friends,” she clarifies, shaking her head, letting her hand drop. “Not an Agency vampire. A rogue. He was hunting me. Managed to take a bite, amongst other things,” she finishes, with a shrug and a laugh that feels artificial. She doesn’t move when Falk draws closer. She’s sitting against the back of the couch, anyway, so there’s nowhere really to retreat, even if she really wanted to. The touch at her neck makes her shiver. His hands are cool, almost unnaturally so. Supernaturally so. Another laugh bubbles up at that thought.</p><p>“Your… friends… didn’t protect you?”</p><p>Rin shakes her head. “They did all they could. M- he was… persistent. Too clever.” Another shake. “He’s not a problem now. The Agency is keeping him, away from anyone else he could hurt.”</p><p>Falk’s fingers don’t move from her neck, seeming reluctant to move away. She leans against the touch slightly.</p><p>“...I shouldn’t stay,” he murmurs, as he flattens his hand out, palm caressing, thumb moving against her jaw.</p><p>“I know.” It comes out sadder than she’d expected. Fingers trace along her jaw, and lift her chin, and he leans down to kiss her- softer than the last time.</p><p>Then he draws back. Even with her eyes slid closed, she can hear the soft sound of his boots on the carpet, and the soft ripple of the glass. She doesn’t open her eyes until she knows he must be gone.</p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> *finish Chapter </em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. chapter two</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“The other night? He came to see you?” Nate looks alarmed and Rin fights the urge to grimace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he’s- he’s popped by a couple times.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘Popped by’,” Morgan repeats, a smirk spreading across her face. “Gets pretty busy in your place then, huh?” Rin makes a face at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just talked,” she says. It’s not true, but they don’t need to know more than that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rebecca</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t need to know more than that. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway-</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell us?” Nate asks, brow creased with concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well it- it wasn’t relevant!” Rin’s more agitated than she should be, she knows, and she can see Morgan grinning at Farah, who seems as though she could do with a bowl of popcorn to enjoy this. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anywayhesaid-</span>
  </em>
  <span>” A moment’s pause to see if anyone will dare interrupt this time, with her looking irate. When it doesn’t come, she draws a breath, and continues a bit slower. “He said he was approached by the leader of the rogue supernaturals-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leader?” Rin suddenly feels like making her best Adam impression and denting a table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep, the leader,” she confirms, flopping back in her chair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam shakes his head. “The rogue supernaturals have no leader. There aren't enough of them to congregate as a group.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin raises her eyebrows. “Oh yeah?” she replies. “You absolutely sure of that?” Adam frowns at her. “‘Cos Falk said they made him an offer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Quiet finally reigns, but it’s an uncomfortable one. Rin’s eyes stay on Adam- and then flick to Rebecca. Even with what they’ve said, how they’ve reacted, she’s not entirely sure she can trust that Rebecca doesn’t know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Considering this new information, it's lucky the Agency has now given you license to carry Agency-grade defensive weapons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Morgan sighs. The others seem just as relieved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rebecca meets Rin’s eyes at last, and while her frown fades she still looks… disappointed. Ah. No clue about secrets. Just Rebecca wishing she could fix the wrongs of the past. Nothing new, then. Rin looks away, picking at her fingernails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll meet you after work,” Adam says. “It might be advisable for you to stay at the warehouse tonight in case Falk decides to make another sudden appearance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>come</span>
  </em>
  <span> on,” Rin groans, hands dropping. “He isn’t going to hurt me now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t know that,” Adam replies, tone as stiff as his posture, as he steps closer, under the bright overhead light, the shadows making him look all the more disapproving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> know that,” Rin shoots back. “You can’t all just coddle me- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> gauge someone’s intentions, and if he really wanted me hurt, he didn’t have to come and </span>
  <em>
    <span>warn</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His frown deepens. “Warn you about what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s mouth twists, hating how she’s angled herself into this corner. “The rogues </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> about me,” she replies. “They know there’s someone here, with power, the secret is out, everything is terrifying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>whatever</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>Falk</span>
  </em>
  <span> isn’t a threat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But clearly these others </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>. This is all the more reason for you to </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and not go swanning off in the middle of the night-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Rin, Adam- please-” Nate has his hands raised, not quite moving between them but on the verge of doing so. He tries to offer Rin a reassuring smile. “Rin, we’re not putting any doubt on your abilities-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes he fuckin’ is-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>But</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Nate insists, voice raising just enough to cut off any further tirade. “There’s still an understandable concern for your safety. Falk might not be a threat, but he felt the need to warn you about a potential new one. Shouldn’t you take that into account, as well?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin can still feel the hot twist of anger, churning in her gut, but she’s not so angry as to not see Nate’s logic. She still scowls at Adam, refusing to flinch away from the sea-ice green stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” she bites out. “I’ll pack a bag. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She hates the vehemence with which she’d spat that out. It’s hurt Nate and Farah, she knows. Probably Morgan and Adam too, and Rebecca looks taut and worried, and Rin stands with a jerk to head for the door. She’ll get her weapons, and then find somewhere to cool off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>⌘</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Staring through the glass at Douglas in his hospital bed isn’t exactly helping her feel any calmer, but Rin stays there regardless. He’s a mess. The blue splotches and swirls across his skin, like cave lichen at the edges, and the blisters and boils dot as beetles settled across the unnatural skin. She knows what it feels like. She knows the burn, the blue spreading down through every nerve to scrape at the bone beneath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t realise she’s clutching her wrist hard enough to hurt until Elidor clears his throat. She jerks, startled- and then relaxes as she sees who it is. No-one she’s argued with. Yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite that thought, she forces a smile onto her face. He doesn’t seem sold on it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry- did you say something?” She lets go of her wrist, shoving her hands in her pockets to hide the discolouration her own fingers have left on the already patchwork skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elidor’s head tilts, towards the glass, towards Douglas, though his warm brown eyes stay fixed on her. “The boy. One of your friends?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looks back into the hospital room. “Yeah,” she says. A hesitation follows, as she picks the words for more context. “We work together. Outside the agency. One of my officers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I can understand your concern. The disease has really taken hold in him. In all these poor souls.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s lips press together, watching the line of light that jitters out Douglas’ heartbeat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re carrying a lot, Rin.” His head shifts, blue hair shimmering in the light. “A lot of responsibility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s my job.” It comes out abruptly. “I’m meant to protect my people from being hurt. And I fucked that up. He was hurt because of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That is on the one who laid this curse, not you,” Elidor says, gentle reprimand in his voice. “Weighing yourself down with guilt won’t help that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin looks away. Falk thinks she’s so pure and clear. If he could see into her head now, he’d know differently.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me watch over him.” Elidor’s gaze is kind. “I want to help you, Rin. I can do this, at least. My shift is nearly over. I can stay, and keep an extra eye on him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She almost shakes her head, says no. But she bites her tongue. Then gives a nod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then consider it done. My protection will be given.” Perhaps it’s how solemnly he states it- but Rin feels her heart lighten ever so slightly. The knots of anger and frustration ease. “Please do keep yourself safe, Detective. I don't wish it to be you I'm treating here again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She doesn’t have a response to that. She doesn’t want to lie, after all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>⌘</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s angry response to Adam’s proposal that she stay at the warehouse probably didn’t help anyone trust that she would actually turn up that evening. Farah appeared at her work not long after Rin arrived herself, and towards the end of the day, so did the others. Farah folded  a few planes, and Rin took time for a plane race, but it hadn’t felt quite right. They accompanied her back to the apartment, and Nate and Farah helped with packing, but she should have laughed more at the sight of Farah, Morgan and Adam all crammed into the back seat, Nate’s long legs struggling even in the front passenger seat of her shitty little silver hatchback.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the group filed at last into one of the common areas of the warehouse, Rin stopped by the door, and watched them disperse themselves across couches and armchairs. Then she turned to face Adam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a definite flicker of surprise on his face. The rest of the room, too, fell suddenly eerily silent, as the other three focused their attention on the two of them. Rin doesn’t look at them, though. She’s not the sort to make reluctant apologies, kicking dirt like she would get away with not making up if she could.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was being a dick. Not telling you all about Falk visiting, and losing my shit over-” She waves a hand, at the warehouse mansion around them. “-this plan. It’s a good plan, I know, I just-” She looks at the others now- Morgan, Farah, and then Nate. “You’ve all been kind, and made a space for me here. And I’ve- been a shithead about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate has a soft smile on his face now- but even as he opens his mouth to answer, his eyes flick to Adam, and he pauses, and remains silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam looks… not quite as stoic as usual. He’s frowning, but not disapprovingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...thank you, Detective,” he replies at last. “It is… understandable. Considering how out of your league you must feel.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate makes a small motion, likely preceeding an attempt to cut in before it becomes a new argument, but Rin just- smiles. She’s trying to make up. Adam is as bad at this as she is, and she can work with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit, yeah,” she says, with a glance around the room. “This is an amazing world I’ve tumbled into, but- it’s complex. And I think I- I forgot, again, what it’s like to work with a team.” She rubs the back of her neck. “But I am glad to be here. I’m glad we’re all working together again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate’s smile looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>proud</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Adam just gives a quiet nod, and Rin decides it’s enough, and heads for a couch, dropping her overnight bag and tossing herself down next to Farah.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad too,” Farah declares, with a beaming smile on her face, and Rin leans to throw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a warm squeeze. Morgan rolls her eyes in the corner where she’s sequestered herself with an ashtray. Nate smiles, and Adam even sits down in an armchair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Rin starts. “Now I’m actually here before three in the morning. How do you guys tend to fill your time o-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In another world, she’d finish the sentence. In this world, she’s cut off by the sudden explosion of glass from the living room windows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin, arm still around Farah, immediately hauls them both off the couch, behind its relative safety, while Farah yelps her surprise- Rin can hear Morgan snarl, and the heavy sound of Adam’s boots on the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she lets go of Farah and shoves herself up, she’s stunned silent by the sight. It’s Falk- and a handful of the other Maa-alused- now standing on the shattered remains of the windows, in curls of thick, grey smoke. The sun, low in the sky, casts them all red and orange, catching on the scattered shards of glass, and it isn’t until Falk steps forwards, into the lights of the living room, that Rin realises that it isn’t the only source of red. Falk is bleeding- clutching at a nasty gash across his shoulder, his shirt ripped open and hanging limp and heavy with his own blood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Falk-” Rin gasps, as she starts to move towards him, but the furious </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span> in his eyes as he fixes on her brings her to a halt as she rounds the edge of the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare</span>
  </em>
  <span> do such a thing,” he snarls. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>trusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” Rin blurts out. It only fans Falk’s fury brighter, and he snarls wordlessly as he springs suddenly towards her, seizing her by the front of her shirt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a twin set of snarls from behind her, but Rin flings an arm out to the side- not trying to shove Falk away, but gesturing for presumably Adam and Morgan to stop.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have the </span>
  <em>
    <span>audacity</span>
  </em>
  <span> to ask </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Falk growls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unhand her,” Adam barks, and Falk’s gaze slides past Rin. Now able to look somewhere other than the furious man in front of her, Rin looks sideways- catching sight of one of the Maa-alused, fanning out to the side, clearly readying for a fight. A young woman- who, despite her angry gaze, looks exhausted and pained. Her clothes are charred and torn, and ash underlies her wounds- and as Rin glances back to Falk she realises that in the hand clutching at her front, there’s a scrap of fabric. White and pink. Striped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a fire.” She’s fairly sure Adam was saying something, but her words draw Falk’s attention back to her. She looks up, eyes wide, honest shock. “Someone- god, someone burnt it, didn’t they?” Falk’s frown deepens, and she forges on, frantically piecing it all together. “And they attacked you. Someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>attacked</span>
  </em>
  <span> you all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Someone</span>
  </em>
  <span>? That someone was </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> Agency-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Rin grabs at Falk’s arm, the one not obviously injured, and he eases his grip, likely ready to shove her away if she tries anything to fight back. “No, we didn’t- we </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The Agency would never use such tactics.” Nate’s words are calm, soft, coaxing. “We had no need to attack you when we were already offering friendship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falk’s resolve seems to be fracturing. His grip loosens on Rin’s shirt, and she flattens her hand against his arm. This doesn’t quite draw the reaction she might have hoped, if she’d done it consciously- because he suddenly lets go and steps back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let us help,” she says, voice strained, near pleading. She can feel the careful tug at the back of her shirt, and knows that Farah is trying to pull her back, away from the threat that Falk presents. She doesn’t move. “We didn’t do this. We have bandages, first aid supplies- please, I just want to help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falk seems to be about to say something- and then hesitates. The anger fights with his exhaustion, and the new doubt brought to his mind, and it plays out on his face, delicate and painful to watch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...how can I trust you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin doesn’t have time to respond. The peace shatters with the shrill ring of a phone. The hand that Falk had half reached towards her is snatched back- and he and his allies suddenly flee, darting for a mirror in the corner. No-one moves to stop them. Adam answers his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s hand presses against her chest, as she tries to process this, tries to work out how to react. Her hand feels damp, and she looks at it- to see a smear of blood, across her fingers, transferred from Falk’s hands to hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You almost had him,” Farah says, trying to sound reassuring, coming out unsure. Rin swallows, eyes feeling suddenly like they’re burning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Adam’s bellow makes her flinch, and Farah steps closer, a tentative hand at Rin’s arm rapidly turning into a hug as she turns into the touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>⌘</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin changed her shirt on the way. They took an agency SUV, and she didn’t really give a shit about undressing on the back seat, ignoring Nate’s yelp as she dragged her blood and ash stained shirt off, and hauled a new one on from her overnight bag. She didn’t need Rebecca freaking out over her being bloody, and she needed to know more about the situation, not get caught up in attempts at motherly fussing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those thoughts are swept away entirely when they actually arrive at the Carnival. Or- what’s left. The place has been razed. There’s no more fire, but the scent of smoke is heavy and acrid in the air. It’s the same smoke that spilled through the mirrors with the Maa-alused, Rin realises, as she stares out across what had been a sweet and warm green, bright with lights, now grey with ash and dotted with Agency rescue workers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Agent Takahara.” She doesn’t turn right away at the sound of Adam’s voice. By the time she does, Rebecca has moved away from her vantage point, overseeing the search efforts, and reached the group. She looks back towards the burnt out stalls, the charred lumber being hauled aside to search for potential victims.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We came as soon as we could,” Nate said, voice low with shock and concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like Rin was bang on,” Farah adds. “Someone burnt this place right down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who.” The tone is wrong for it to be a question, and Rin swallows at the taste of ash that lands on her tongue as she speaks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trappers.” Rin’s attention is dragged back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are they.” Again, not a question, and this time she’s staring Rebecca in the eye, daring her to lie or wave it away again.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*finish Chapter</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. chapter three</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*set trappers “known”</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>And now they wait- for the ‘Dogs’. Rin could piece together they would be werewolves, but her questions are short and terse. They can’t move forwards, apparently, on rescuing Sanja until someone else finds the location, and backup arrives. A backup that Rin doesn’t particularly care to wait for, even if she can follow the logic of having an extra party about to keep the town from discovering the supernatural activities threatening to spill out of their shadows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Farah fidgets. Adam watches the clock. Morgan smokes. Nate sits by Rin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s leg starts to jiggle, impatience building. They’ve been waiting too long- maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if she’d been able to take part in locating the trackers, but that door had been closed on her, leaving her with nothing to do but wait.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan’s jaw clenches, as she looks like she’d rather wait somewhere else, where she doesn’t have to deal with Farah and Rin’s jittering.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate turns towards Rin a little more, and offers her a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It shouldn’t be much longer,” he says. “The Agency works quick in matters like these.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Rin’s eyebrow quirks. “They were pretty slow when it came to catching up to you guys with Murphy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate’s smile looks a little strained, but he reaches out to touch her arm. “It’s going to be okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> okay,” Rin mutters, leg jiggling harder, her heel now making the motion audible. Adam’s eye twitches, their irritation feeding one another. Morgan is near invisible in her cloud of smoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I think I’m in fucking love, alright?” The effort taken to blurt that out seems to suddenly drain Rin. Her leg stops, suddenly, and she sinks deeper into the chair. And the vampires are all staring at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...with… Falk?” Nate ventures, sounding very unsure. The miserable expression on Rin’s face answers that question, and he sits back a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then the Dogs arrive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door bursts open, slamming into the wall behind it, and Rin is on her feet in a flash, nerves still wound tight. It’s a lucky thing she isn’t armed, or else she might have made her first impression with Unit Alpha nearly the same as with Unit Bravo.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, human,” declares the huge man now completely occupying the doorway. “The fun has arrived!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The grin this is accompanied with is met with wary tension, but isn’t at all diminished by it. The broad, powerful looking Maori man ducks into the room- and then followed by another, with much the same near-black eyes, heavy and intricate tattoos and bright white, gleaming smiles. Brothers, likely, Rin realises, as she notes further similarities of appearance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, we’re fun!” Farah protests, on her feet now as well- but shifting close to Rin. She’s distracted by the new arrivals, but that doesn’t stop her from glancing at Rin, wide eyes communicating her lingering surprise at Rin’s declaration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, don’t worry kiddo- wasn’t talking about you!” The taller werewolf’s smile doesn’t shift.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, only about Saint Nice-guy and the emotionless statue over here,” the shorter continues, sentences tossed between them with familiarity. “They're about as much fun as walking around a museum.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin folds her arms, drawing a deep, steadying breath. As much as she’d like to be friendly and welcoming to Unit Alpha, her patience is being badly strained right now- and Farah hovering so close, now joined by Nate on the other side of her, is making her keenly aware that the interrupted conversation will have to be continued at some later point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love museums,” Nate defends, sounding baffled at the choice of description.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Exactly.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Farah laughs, and Morgan snorts, and it’s almost enough to cover up the sound of approaching footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This new woman is a far different presence- calm and elegant, with soft words and a gentle voice. Her appearance seems to immediately haul her colleagues into line, the two already very tall men straightening up even further. “You haven't been bothering Unit Bravo again, have you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s hardly a moment between that and the hopeful last of the new arrivals. Rin racks her mind to try and confirm- Units are teams of four, right? This whole show must be over soon, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-hey, what’s that </span>
  <em>
    <span>smell</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s attention snaps back as suddenly the two men are moving towards her- </span>
  <em>
    <span>sniffing</span>
  </em>
  <span> the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh man, smells like ginger cookies-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, more like… fresh lemonade.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They come to a stop in front of Rin, one of them almost shouldering Farah out of the way, and inhale in unison. Rin’s frown deepens, and deepens further as they both then chorus, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wanna lose those noses?” Rin growls, snarl worthy of a vampire, her lip curling. She hears a muffled snort from the side that Farah disappeared to. Both men look surprised, and glance at each other, clearly not expecting such a vehement response.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s enough of that,” Adam orders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright-” The shorter one backs off first, though his brother follows quickly enough. “No harm meant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin lets out a slow breath, glancing towards Adam- before her attention is snagged by the clear leader of Unit Alpha. The tall, elegant woman meets Rin’s gaze with bright, interested eyes, inspecting her just as carefully as Rin is examining her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should offer introductions,” she says. This time Rin picks up the accent- South African. “I am Lesedi Koela. Commanding Agent of Unit Alpha.” She gestures to the taller of the men, currently running a hand through his long, wavy black hair. “This is Maaka Scott, my second-in-command, and his brother Tane.” Tane gives a wave and a bright smile, his brother mirroring the gesture. “And this is Tamiko Dioli.” The other woman has sprawled into a chair, giving a short wave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Polite. She should be polite. They’re here to help. “Thank you for coming,” Rin says, her voice considerably smoother, giving a slight nod. “We appreciate your assistance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are delighted to help. I apologise for our tardiness. It has been some time since we’ve been back to the facility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shall we get down to business?” Nate suggests, with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tane opens his mouth, apparently about to make a comment- but then he catches Rin’s narrowing gaze, and shuts it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We sent the information on our patrols and notes on the town over to your handler earlier,” Nate continues, either not noticing or paying no heed to the interaction. “This meeting was more to give you a chance to meet the human liaison of Wayhaven.” Rin straightens a little at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Detective Takahara, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin nods. “Rin, usually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then Rin it shall be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamiko twists around in her chair, leaning forwards to peer at Rin. “You’re the one with the blood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, but I don’t plan on sharing,” Rin replies, an eyebrow arching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tamiko grins. “You sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very.” There’s a muffled laugh from one of the Scott brothers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now that you’ve met her, this meeting is concluded,” Adam declares, turning for the door, clearly done with their shenanigans. Maaka makes a jibe, but Rin stops paying attention, even when Adam slams the door as he storms out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin is tiring of it too. It’s not like her, she knows- ordinarily she’d be interested in meeting werewolves, and another Agency team, and even aside from that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>likes</span>
  </em>
  <span> people. But she can’t shift her mind from the issue at hand. She wants her people to be okay, to recover from the cursed sickness, and the simplest way to ensure that is to try and broker this peace. But she doesn’t have high hopes for that happening if they lose Sanja.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snaps back from her thoughts as Unit Alpha starts to rise and head for the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it was nice to meet you, Rin,” Maaka says, with a friendly smile. She blinks- and then gives a small smile back, which seems to cheer him further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's unlikely we'll encounter each other much, but I hope we can call on you if needed,” Lesedi says, making a slight bow, before she follows the now chattering Tamiko and Scotts out the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the door closes behind them, Rin flops back onto the couch with a sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re in </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span>- with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Falk</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Farah blurts out. Rin groans, hands clapping over her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guess that explains the late night visits,” Morgan snickers. Rin draws one hand away from clawing at her own face, in order to flip her off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think we need to pester her,” Nate tries to reason.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” Rin gripes. “‘Love’ is too strong a word. It’s just- it’s just </span>
  <em>
    <span>confusing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I don’t know what’s going on, and I can’t stop thinking about him, and it’s not just about the treaty, it’s- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t know</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate sits down next to her, and rests a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright,” he says, voice soothing. “You don’t need to figure it out now. And you don’t need to explain it to us.” Her gaze droops to the floor. “But thank you for sharing with us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Farah drops on the couch on the other side of her, leaning in to bump her shoulder against Rin’s. “Now we especially can’t screw this up,” she declares. Rin leans back against her, wordless in her thanks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long until we get news about the teller's location?” Morgan asks, matter of fact as she ashes her cigarette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not long, I expect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin’s phone rings. It’s Verda, and she gets up from the couch, heading for the door to take the call. Word’s spread about the carnival fire, and Tina is still at her own mystery unravelling. It just makes Rin sigh even heavier as she hangs up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It can’t be easy to keep all of this from those close to you.” She doesn’t even startle at people stepping out of the shadows at her anymore. This time at least it’s just Adam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs. “It isn’t. But- that’s the deal, right? One foot in their world, one foot in yours.” She gives a dry grin, not particularly amused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Try not to step too far into this world. It’s important, to still keep those connections. They’re no less important, even if you must keep secrets from them.” He looks not quite as severe as usual. Sympathetic, even. It’s a strange expression to see on Adam, and Rin glances away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know this is inconvenient.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He presses his lips together. “That’s one word for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do my job. I don’t let feelings get in the way of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t doubt that, Detective. But-” He pauses. “...we don’t wish to see you harmed. By Falk, or by anyone else. And his true capabilities are unknown, his loyalties unsure. What understanding we had before has been damaged. We would not want to see you suffer for it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She could be offended, accuse him of coddling. But she knows that’s not what he means. Rin sighs. “Don’t swoon over the enemy,” she replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve never struck me as the swooning type.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She snorts, meeting his slight smile with one of her own. She reaches out to clap a hand against his shoulder. “Thanks, Adam.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opens. “Rin?” It’s Nate, his phone in his hand. “They’ve found the location.”</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*set tellersafety 0</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Two teams. Adam and Farah are scouting for trapper patrols, while Nate and Morgan accompany Rin into the sewers. Of course they’d be hunting in the sewers. Why couldn’t the trappers use a warehouse like normal Wayhaven threats?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin suppresses a snort at her own, unaired joke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you manage to find this?” Nate asks, looking simultaneously a little impressed and also off put by their filthy surroundings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wayhaven isn’t that big. I had it pretty much mapped by the time I was ten.” Rin grins. “Never got the manhole open before, though,” she adds, her smile fading as she focuses more on the problems at hand. “So from here, it’s back to the unknown.” Her torch scans over the darkness, stopping as she notices something. “There- footprints. Fresh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lovely,” Morgan grimaces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They set off, silence taking over as they focus on picking their way along the passage. A fall in this muck would be disgusting. Probably worse for the vampires. It smells bad enough without having improved senses, and Morgan can’t even smoke to distract from the reek. Best they get through this portion as fast as possible. Hopefully wherever the trappers have set up, they’ve found somewhere that doesn’t stink so badly.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*set sewer "success"</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Rin runs her hand over the Volt gun, tension building in her chest. It releases as Morgan busts down the door, and Nate declares our arrival, and calls for surrender. Rin isn’t surprised when the trappers choose to fight. She was almost hoping for it. Almost, of course- because now it’s a fight, and that puts Sanja even more at risk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate and Morgan surge ahead. Rin moves slower, but her path is more direct. Nate and Morgan can handle the bulk of the trappers, while her priority is getting to Sanja. She dodges swinging fists, grasps lunging arms and turns the tables on her attackers- she knows how to fight </span>
  <em>
    <span>smart</span>
  </em>
  <span>, if she must fight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sanja’s head was hanging low, but the panic of her captors, the abatement of her torture, draws her to look up- and for a moment, Rin catches her gaze. Her eyes widen, pleading, and Rin tears herself away only to dodge a more skilled attack. She jabs the Volt into the trapper’s shoulder, and he gives a pained yell- but it’s cut short as the electricity floods through him, making him shake violently, and then drop in a heap on the ground.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin looks back to Sanja- only to find her view blocked. The woman holding the cattleprod-like rod that she’d been using on the fortune teller has stepped forwards, her eyes narrowing in on Rin. Specifically on her badge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Another fuckin’ detective,” she spits. “I thought you looked familiar. That bastard spawned another, didn’t he? And you’ve inherited his love of monsters, at that.” Rin stiffens, her grip on the Volt tightening. It hasn’t recharged just yet, and while she’s being addressed, the other trappers seem to be leaving her be. “You know how many times him and that wife of his have stolen a payload from us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin grins. “Guess it runs in the family.” She has an idea, suddenly, as to how to help- and she skitters back, towards the side wall, as the woman starts to advance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Realising what you’re up against?” she mocks, interpreting it as fear. “What did you expect to be able to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah.” Rin raises an arm up, reaching behind herself. “Time to say night-night,” she chirps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she slams her hand on the switch on the power box she’d managed to back herself up against, plunging the room into darkness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She can </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the sound of the tide turning- far more human cries, and triumphant snarls that she </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows</span>
  </em>
  <span> come from Morgan. She leaves the lights off as long as she dares, giving her companions time to cut through the worst of the crowd. Something impacts the wall near her, and she slaps her hand back on the switch, bringing the industrial lights back up. It turns out it was just a body- the unconscious body of the woman threatening her, in fact. She looks up to meet Morgan’s gaze with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she sees the trappers stalking towards Sanja. She sprints past Morgan, vaulting over a workbench and using the momentum to boot one of the trappers right in the chest. They fall heavily with a cry, but their prod is dropped and skitters away across the floor. One of her companions snarls, swiping at her with his own prod- she dodges, but any further retaliation is cut short as he suddenly freezes, stiffening and eyes bulging, as blue electricity crackles around him. He drops, to reveal Morgan on the other side, holding one of the electrical prods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then she’s throwing it at Rin. “Behind you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It couldn’t have gone more smoothly than if they’d rehearsed it. Rin catches the prod, spinning to take down the trapper who had come up behind her, then throwing it back to Morgan when she calls for it. This strange ballet continues, until they have nothing but a pile of unconscious trappers scattered about them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You did good.” Morgan even gives her a half smile at that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin grins. “You did pretty good yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their attention is dragged away- Nate staggers back from his own side of the fight, leaning against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You good?” Rin calls out, as Morgan heads over to check on him. Nate wordlessly waves a hand. He’ll heal. With that established, she turns back to Sanja.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just in time to see one of the trappers shove the electrical prod in her side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Umph-” Something that looks like a chunk of concrete suddenly flies past Rin, making her flinch, and takes out the trapper. Rin runs towards Sanja, skidding to a stop next to the chair she’s tied to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey- hey, can you hear me?” Rin reaches to carefully lift her head. Sanja’s eyes are open, though they’re dulled with pain, sweat dripping from her forehead. Rin tries to give her an encouraging smile. “It’s okay- we’re here. We’ve got you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sanja’s breath catches, something like a choked sob. Morgan joins them, and with one swift motion rips apart the knots holding Sanja in place. Rin is quick to catch her as she slumps, carefully supporting her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They did it. She’s alive.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*set sanjafate = "alive"</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>They take Sanja to the warehouse. Rin doesn’t leave her side, even when Adam carries her out of the sewers. It feels odd to be sat around the kitchen table, injured and bruised, watching Nate disassemble a medical kit for the injured fortune teller. But not out of place. Strange, the ways that a place can start to feel like home.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nate’s phone buzzes, and he glances at it. “Rin, could you-” Rin’s already stepping in to take over, picking up an ice pack to wrap in a tea towel. Nate moves away, towards the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have no need to fuss over me,” Sanja says, with a tired but nonetheless grateful smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re hurt,” Rin replies, handing her the compress. “Just let me fuss a bit. To make up for turning up so late. Anyway, the actual medics will be here soon, and then you’ll really get gone over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sanja gives a soft laugh. “Thank you.” She holds the compress against her neck, soothing a particularly nasty bruise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The medics arrive with Rebecca. Sanja is handed over into their care. There’s a debriefing, discussions of the cattle prods the trappers had been using. Rin’s attention is flagging, her exhaustion taking over. She doesn’t even really resist when Rebecca manages to pull her away from the group.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve been informed that the trappers…” She hesitates. “That they recognised you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah. Rin shrugs, shoulders falling back to their tired slump. “More that they recognised my father. Said I ‘inherited his love for monsters’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rebecca stiffens. “He protected everyone, including supernaturals.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You do too.” Rebecca is cut off, and Rin looks at her with an odd expression. It’s the softest she’s looked at her mother in years. “They said you and he stole their payloads.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...we worked well together.” Her voice sounds strained, as she tries to hold back her emotion. “Until the end.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did they kill him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. It was rogues.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rebecca looks away. Which means she gets next to no warning when Rin steps closer, and pulls her into a hug. She sounds startled, and she barely manages to gather herself in time to bring her arms about to hug Rin back- before Rin steps away. She watches her child walk to the door, and leave without another word.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*finish Chapter</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. fin</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*wait</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>Rin hates the vacuum of activity in the wake of things like this. She knows that things are happening, behind the scenes and outside of her purview, but for her there’s little to do but wait. Go to work, go home, rest, and repeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it’s at last time for the meeting she’s abuzz with anxious energy. She does her best to contain it- being anxious isn’t going to help settle things one way or the other. And for the most part, she succeeds. She needs to be professional.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t until Falk announces he wishes to speak with her alone that it bubbles back up again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam is immediately at her side. “No. We are here together, and you will treat us as such.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falk waves a hand dismissively. “You hold no interest with me.” His yellow eyes fix on Rin’s, making her breath catch in her throat. “She does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Adam.” Rin glances up at him, and gives him a reassuring smile. “I’ll meet up with you in a minute.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adam still bristles, but he gives a sharp nod- to Rin, not to Falk- and storms out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin lets out a held breath. She glances toward Falk, eyes flicking away when she sees he’s still watching her, before she makes herself meet his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you want to say?” she asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pauses. Throughout all of this, though he’s been quite clearly glad to see Sanja alive again, he’s been… polite. Distant. No cues given as to his decision on the treaty. She hadn’t let herself think further than that. The treaty is more important than personal feelings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what she’s repeating, as he steps towards her, and reaches to take her hand. His fingers are cool around hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not sure it’s words I wished to exchange,” he says, and if that weren’t enough to send a flutter through her chest, there’s a slight, almost playful smile. Rin bites her lip. He lets go of her hand, but it’s gently done, leaving her fingers with the ghost of his touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The agency did well, to send you as their spokesperson.” His tone is more formal now, but nowhere near as cold. “You’ve argued in their favour most valiantly. I can see myself being persuaded to join this Agency.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The delight and relief bubbles in her chest, and Rin struggles to fight the wide smile that wants to appear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You brought back Sanja to us. And she is our heart. That will not go without recognition.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Rin can’t help letting a small smile through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will contact your people with my decision soon. And-” He pauses. “...I think when that is passed… we should speak.” His eyes flick to the cavern entrance. “...when your brute of a companion is not likely to bring these walls down around us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin gives a small laugh. “Yeah, I’d- I’d like that.” Her hand moves, almost reaching out to him, but she pulls it back, busying herself with smoothing her shirt down. “Take care,” she settles with, before she turns and departs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She finds Adam wearing a trench outside. She lets herself smile properly now, and the expression seems to help assuage his concern as he turns towards her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did it go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...good, I think. I hope.” She reaches out to pat his arm. “Let’s go back to the others.”</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*goto Epilogue</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>
  <span>And so it all ended. Mostly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Maa-alused signed the treaty. The Agency made arrangements for their request- the land on which they could rest away from the world. The trappers made one last attempt at revenge, attacking Rin outside the facility, but were swiftly dealt with, thanks to Elidor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It would be a few more days before the maa-alused could depart for their new lands. Rin and the rest of Unit Bravo had decided amongst themselves to go, and help oversee the process, but until then it was back to her more mundane life once again. Back in the vacuum of waiting, though this wait was far less trying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it turned out, she wouldn’t have to wait for long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rin is settling onto the couch, intending on whiling away the hours before bed with some tv show, when she hears the ringing rippling of glass. The remote is dropped, a soft thud to the couch, and she twists to see Falk stepping through the frame of the mirror standing in her living room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her words catch in her throat, and it takes a moment before she can manage to get out- “hi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...hello.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s dressed differently. A cream tunic, with light and delicate flowers embroidered across its hem. No leather waistcoat- nor the elaborate collar and leather coat he’d worn to the treaty signing. Rin smiles, half at him now and half at the memory.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mere,” she says, shuffling across the couch to make room. “Have a seat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He does. He sits on the couch, careful at first, and then settling a little more comfortably. Rin tilts her head, watching him, distantly wondering at the oddity of at last seeing him just… here. No fights, far fewer mysteries.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time to talk,” she says, knees tucked up to her chest, arms folded across them, a quiet smile on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Quite.” He seems amused, and about as entertained by watching her as she is of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like you.” She knows there isn’t an easy, delicate way to start, so she throws herself in. Time to hope she can swim. “I… </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> like you. And I want to explore that, without having to worry about treaties and trappers and anything outside this apartment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...that feeling is… mutual.” Falk gives her a slightly baffled smile. “I wasn’t expecting to find anything like you here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wasn’t expecting you much, either,” she replies, eyes crinkling with her smile. Then it fades. “But-” She hesitates.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But.” His smile fades as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...this is going to be hard, isn’t it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quiet nod.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have your people- I don’t expect- I’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> expect you to leave them. Not even just- part time. But you’re going to… you can’t travel that far, can you? Through the mirrors?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes drop away from her. They’ve both seen the maps, showing where the new lands will be. “No, I cannot,” he confirms. “And you can’t leave your people, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” She lets her legs slide down, sighing. “I have to stay here. Wayhaven is...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “I have to protect them. I can’t do that if I’m just- leaving all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence spreads between them, as they both sit with that knowledge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It might be easier to… not indulge, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...but I want to.” She looks at him, and gives a bittersweet smile. “It might be a mistake. And I won’t forget it. But I-” She half reaches towards him, the motion stalled, and her hand falls to rest on the couch between them, fingers clenching. “I want something to remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Falk looks at her. Then he stands, walks to her end of the couch, and reaches down, his hands clasping either side of her face. She leans into the touch, half wanting to close her eyes, but also not wanting to stop watching and memorising every little movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing outside this apartment, then,” he says, and leans in to kiss her.</span>
</p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>
      <span>*fadetoblack</span>
    </em>
  </p>
</blockquote>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you all for reading- your kudos and comments have been greatly appreciated =w=</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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